Friday, July 01, 2011

sister conversations

Today I was chatty chattin' with my sister on the way home from work and somehow we ended up talking about birth weight which led me to sharing with her that at one point early in my life I believed that when I was born I weighed 8 lbs 7 oz. Only later in life (read: middle school or early high school) did I receive clarification on the issue. The truth was, I weighed 7 lbs 8 oz., and for some reason, this was both a relief and a source of great distress for me. I had shared this false and robust information to countless of my friends, only to find out that I was a normal, smaller sized baby.* (Having a little sister who weighed a mere 6 lbs 4 oz. at birth is a lot to live....down to?) I genuinely felt like I owed it to those people and to my reputation to go back and inform everyone I could think of about my correct birth weight.

After I told my sister this she responded with the following:

"Yeah, it's kind of like when I found out a couple years ago that my half birthday is actually June 5, and not on Cinco de Mayo like I always believed. I guess I could have just done the math, but you know."

*I know now, being an adult, that 8 lbs 7 oz is not abnormal. Please keep in mind that the girl feeling those feelings was young and without birthing experiences of her own to draw from.


Annie said...

"I guess I could have just done the math.". Hahahaha
Y'all are funny.

Becky said...

So...not sure if you'll see this comment since I'm not sure if you're still blogging...but here goes.

This is going to sound totally creepy which makes sense because it has me creeped out.

I stumbled across your blog googling for table makeovers (your blue thrift store table makeover = super cute) and noticed your dining room looks similar to mine. Then I noticed you painted your dining room the SAME colors we painted ours (in the same order...dark on bottom, light on top). Okay not that big of a deal...lots of people do that, right?

But then...I noticed the pic of the cute black and white dog that looks just like MY BFFs dog.

Then I noticed your hubby's name is Kevin. So is mine.

Then I noticed your name is Becki. Mine is Becky.

Then (!) I noticed you called your hubby K-Ho. My hubby is K-Ho! Uhhhh...*start getting goosebumps now*

THEN I noticed you live in Texas. I live in Texas.


I thought I entered an alternative universe until I found out our last names are *not* the same (just the beginning Ho part). And thank goodness because that would just be too much, now wouldn't it??